


Coming Out: The Speedrun

by ProseApothecary



Category: Crashing (UK TV)
Genre: A tiny bit of angst in the form of an accidental outing, And Anthony's annoying, But when isn't he, Coming Out, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23392738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProseApothecary/pseuds/ProseApothecary
Summary: “Maybe we should pretend I have a terminal disease,” Sam says, in the middle of their morning lie-in. “So then when we reveal we’re dating, it’ll seem like small potatoes.”“Hm.” says Fred. Whoever said there was no wrong way to come out obviously wasn’t anticipating Sam.
Relationships: Fred Patini/Sam, Shortlived Kate/Anthony
Comments: 28
Kudos: 131





	Coming Out: The Speedrun

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like Sam's general approach to anything difficult is: put it off for as long as possible, then speedrun it.

“Maybe we should pretend I have a terminal disease,” Sam says, in the middle of their morning lie-in. “So then when we reveal we’re dating, it’ll seem like small potatoes.”

“Hm.” says Fred. Whoever said there was no wrong way to come out obviously wasn’t anticipating Sam. “Maybe instead of a terminal disease it could be like…a cold?”

Sam frowns. “I don’t think so. Last time I had a cold, Kate said I deserved it for forgetting to lock the front door all night. And Melody said I deserved it for eating her cupcakes from the fridge. And Anthony said I deserved it for stealing his vodka-”

“I get the picture. No fake colds.”

“Ok,” says Sam. “Maybe _you_ have the terminal disease. And I start fake-dating you as some kind of Make-a-Wish thing, and then it just…gradually becomes real.”

“…Do any of these ideas _not_ involve the spectre of death?”

“There’s one where you start dating my long-lost “identical twin” called Cam-”

“Maybe instead,” Fred interrupts, “we should just think about who you’d tell first?”

“Kate,” Sam says, then pauses. “Melody?...Do you think the fourth floor yoga bunny needs to know?”

As it turns out, Kate doesn’t find out from Sam.

“CPR,” Sam explains while Kate goes to town on the coffee plunger.

“That’s right,” says Fred. “I-I was choking. And Sam saved me.”

Kate glances between them. “Ok, that obviously wasn’t…CPR. But if you’re worried I’m going to tell Anthony? Or _Lulu?_ You don’t need to worry.” She gives the plunger a final angry push.

“Or Colin. Or Melody.” Sam adds. “Or that taxi driver who lives on the fourth floor.”

Fred tilts his head. “I don’t think the taxi driver cares.”

“Wrong,” Sam says. “He’s always had a thing for me. I don’t want to give him the wrong impression.”

“He’s married.” Kate says. “But I won’t tell anyone.”

Relief washes over Sam. “It wasn’t CPR,” he admits, as if Kate hadn’t figured that out. “Me and Fred. Fred and I. Freddy-”

Fred’s not sure if he’s supposed to interrupt, but Sam’s giving him sort of a pleading look, so he jumps in. “We’re dating.”

Kate gives them a fledgling smile. “Dating dating? That is good news. I sort of assumed Fred was just letting himself be used. Trying to fool himself into thinking he wanted you, for years and years.”

Sam frowns. “Fred does want me. A lot.”

“When really, he doesn’t care if you put your tongue in someone else’s mouth, just _don’t do it in front of me_.”

“Kate,” Fred jumps in, “is everything ok with you and Anthony?”

“Fine,” she says brightly.

“Maybe _you_ should try playing for the other team,” Sam says. “If you and Lulu decide to make Anthony jealous, I am very willing to record the whole thing.”

Fred had sort of thought that the straight-boy jokes would naturally cease when he and Sam started dating. No such luck. He expects it’s a reflex that’s going to take a while to disappear.

Kate makes a face at Sam. “I think it requires a more permanent solution.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “You’re going to _kill_ him?”

“No! I meant break up.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, do it today. You look hot as hell. It’ll be devastating.”

“Yes,” says Fred, sensing he’s meant to contribute, “you look very cute.”

“He means sexy,” Sam says.

“I mean sexy. Super sexy.”

“Aw,” Kate says, “You two are cute.”

“You mean sexy,” Sam corrects.

“No, I mean cute.”

Sam puts a hand on Fred’s shoulder. “Maybe _this one_ is, but I’m-”

“I’m doing this,” says Kate, drinking from the coffee plunger, “before I change my mind.”

“Go for it. But maybe in five minutes, after he’s finished making our pancakes?”

“Sam.” Fred warns.

“Breakfast’s ready,” they hear from the other room.

“Or now. Whichever, really.”

Kate leaves, and it’s just the two of them again.

Fred looks over at Sam. “You ok?”

“…It feels like us dating should’ve ranked higher on the news scoreboard than Anthony being a dick. I mean, Anthony’s a dick every day.”

“Oh my God. You want her to be more aghast?”

“Come on,” Sam takes Fred’s hand and starts walking out, pancakes forgotten.

“…Where are we going?”

“Lulu’s going to give us a _proper_ reaction.”

“Ah,” says Lulu. She has that half-grin on her face, somewhere between sheepish and thrilled. “So I turned another one.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam says, “Next time, don’t burp while my tongue’s in your-”

“Still here,” Fred says. “Can you guys see me? I’m still here.”

Sam grins, and, feeling rather brave, presses a kiss to Fred’s cheek. “Don’t worry. If _you_ ever burped in the middle of-”

“Anyway,” Fred says quickly, “things to do, people to see. Bye Lulu.”

“You’re gay?” asks Anthony. _Assuming Kate went through with the breakup_ , Fred thinks, _he does not look particularly distraught._ “Like, gay gay?”

“Uh.” says Sam. “…Yes?”

“…You didn’t actually sleep with Lulu,” Anthony pronounces confidently, with a burgeoning happiness.

“Um,” says Sam. “No, that. That happened.”

Anthony’s smile flops.

“You slept with Lulu. When you didn’t even _want_ to?”

Sam folds his arms. “It wasn’t that simple.” He flounders, and reaches for a joke. “I mean, she does this Matthew McConaughey impression that’s like, _eerily_ accurate-”

“You _dick_ ,” Anthony says. “You fucked me over for nothing?”

Sam swallows. He feels fingers drift up his spine, and hears a soft voice.

“Anthony.”

“Fred,” Anthony says, “all due respect, you’re not the one who got fucked over.”

“What are you talking about? He kissed my boyfriend!” Fred says, pitch rising. _And, oh, Sam’s not sure he likes where this is going._

“Ok,” Sam says, “I think we can all agree that I’ve fucked _everyone_ over at some point, but-”

“ _You_ weren’t dating Lulu.” Fred continues. “You’re still not! You want to keep all your options open forever, but maybe if you ever _made_ a choice, you’d understand why sometimes people make the wrong ones.”

Sam stares. He was pretty sure he was the only person Fred ever got angry with.

Anthony seems to think so too, given the way he immediately sobers up. “Shit, Fred.”

Fred hikes his shoulders up. He’s not used to yelling at people. “Sorry.”

“Oh my God,” Anthony says, turning to Sam like it’s sinking in properly. “You’re gay.”

“So you keep saying.”

“I always thought you had a thing for our history professor.”

Fred stops himself from pointing out that Anthony was shocked at the news three seconds ago. He always gets a little conversational whiplash from Sam and Anthony.

“Dude,” Sam says, “I just wanted to steal his Air Jordans.”

“Hm…What about the Starbucks barista with blue hair?”

Sam frowns. “Who?”

Fred wonders how long this conversation is going to go on for, and if he can just zone out now.

“Ok. What about…” Anthony broadly gestures to himself. “I promise I won’t freak out.”

Sam snorts and Anthony looks offended.

“Sorry,” Sam says, “you just have this sort of…aggressively hetero vibe.”

“No I don’t. What does that even mean?”

“No, you do,” Fred says. “But like, a straight guy who’s done one term of gender studies,” he adds placatingly.

Anthony frowns like he’s not sure how to take that, and settles for changing the subject. “So. Was I the first person you told?”

Sam makes a sound that could be a yes or a no. “Speaking of. We have to tell everyone else.”

They make a rapid exit.

“Do you knock?” Melody asks. She’s in the middle of painting Colin, who's sitting in a pile of cushions with a ceramic peacock in his lap.

“Melody, baby,” Sam says, ‘I know you were planning on us making beautiful art together, but you should know that me and Treacle are dating, so, you know. Ain’t never gonna happen.”

“I’m shocked,” Melody says, continuing to paint.

Colin really does look shocked. “Oh my God,” he breathes. “The helpline. And the chair-kicking.”

“The what?” asks Fred. “And the what?”

“The nothing and the nothing,” says Sam. “We gotta go, babe.”

Fred lets himself be pulled out of the room. Sam has, after all, just bounded past a milestone.

And it's worth it when Sam beams, and kisses him. Right in the middle of the hall.


End file.
